Work Header


Chapter Text

"Then run," the Dalek says.

The Doctor can only stare as she tells him she's taken down the force field. For all that the voice and intonation is Dalek, the phrasing is anything but.

"Run!" the grating Dalek voice entreats again. No, Oswin hasn't lost yet. But even if she won't, she's still ... that. What is he supposed to do with a Dalek?

An explosion shakes the walls, the floor under his feet. The bombardment has started in earnest.

"Oswin. Are you ..." The Doctor's voice is hoarse. There's a Dalek in front of him, weapon aimed, and he's still alive. There's a Dalek in front of him, and it's saving him. There's Oswin in front of him, and she's a Dalek, and he doesn't know what to feel.

"Thank you," he eventually whispers. The Doctor stares for another long moment, then turns around and does as she told him. He runs. For a terrifying moment he thinks she might follow behind, but she doesn't. He tries not to feel relieved.

She deserved better. But he couldn't do better. It's bitter knowledge, but he has no time to wallow. Explosions to dodge, after all. And he's still running.

Not the least from her.